


teenage kicks

by gothyringwald



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, First Kiss, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, dumb boys doing dumb things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24924748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: ‘I wanna do something.’‘Like what?’There are a lot of answers to that question and Billy’s just about drunk enough to blurt out one of the too-honest ones swirling around his mind. Some days, he thinks that Steve might not mind hearing them with the way Steve looks at him.Billy and Steve are hanging out on a summer evening, but Billy is bored. He also has whiskey. The odds on this ending badly are pretty good.AKA dumb boys engaging in drunken shenanigans.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 28
Kudos: 261





	teenage kicks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LazyBaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/gifts).



> For LazyBaker because we both love them being dumb teenage boys <3 hope you like it! :)
> 
> Set sometime in the future, Billy is over 18

It’s somewhere around the third whiskey chaser when Billy flops back onto the Harringtons’ den floor and says, ‘I’m bored.’

‘How can you be bored when we have whiskey?’ Steve is lying on his stomach beside Billy, propped on his elbows. He swallows a hiccup. ‘Really fucking expensive whiskey, by the way.’

Billy turns and looks up at Steve. From this angle, he can see up Steve’s nose, and fuck, he’s not drunk enough for that to be _funny_ only it is funny, so maybe he’s drunker than he thought. Drunker? More drunk? He rubs at his face. ‘I wanna do something.’

‘Like what?’

There are a lot of answers to that question and Billy’s just about drunk enough to blurt out one of the too-honest ones swirling around his mind. Some days, he thinks that Steve might not mind hearing them with the way Steve looks at him. All hot and furtive. But Billy _isn’t_ drunk enough to risk it, so he says, ‘I dunno, it’s your house. You think of something.’

A sultry evening breeze blows through the open sliding door, tickling the hair on Billy’s exposed legs, cooling his warm face. He breathes in deep, but summer doesn’t smell the same out here. Not like home.

Ugh. Whiskey always makes him sappy. No, not sappy. Billy doesn’t do sappy.

‘That’s dumb,’ Steve says.

Billy’s lost track of the conversation so he says, ‘Your face is dumb,’ and shoves his hand in Steve’s face, pushing Steve down as he sits up.

Steve falls onto his back, batting Billy’s hand away. ‘Asshole.’

Billy grins.

‘We could go for a swim.’

‘Nah, we already did that.’

Steve sighs and pushes himself up. ‘Then I don’t know.’ He stands, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rides up and his shorts are all bunched from how he was sitting. 

Heat rushes Billy and he swallows thickly. But he doesn’t stop his gaze from drifting over the dimples at the small of Steve’s back or over the swell of his ass. Down to his slim thighs, those strong calves. God, Billy just wants to sink his teeth right into Steve. 

He leans over and bites Steve’s calf.

‘Ow.’ Steve jerks away. ‘What the fuck?’

‘Entertain me, pretty boy, or I’ll bite you again.’

‘You’re fucking kidding—’

Billy gnashes his teeth.

Satisfaction wells up in Billy at the colour rising to Steve’s face when he moves back, out of Billy’s reach. ‘OK, OK. Jeez.’ He shakes his head. ‘I can’t believe you _bit_ me.’

‘Told you I was bored.’

‘You’re a brat,’ Steve says, but he reaches out a hand to Billy and adds, ‘C’mon, get up, let’s find something to do.’

Too easy. Billy narrows his eyes and shrugs one shoulder. ‘Maybe I changed my mind.’ He props himself on an elbow, plucks at the rug.

‘You are the worst.’ One side of Steve’s shorts is so bunched up Billy can see the edge of his briefs as he starts to walk away. They’re dark blue. Steve tugs his shorts down. ‘I’ll find something fun to do all on my own.’

Billy makes a small growling noise in the back of his throat and pushes himself up. He catches up with Steve, throwing an arm around his shoulder. ‘Not a very gracious host, Harrington. Leaving me all on my lonesome.’

‘You’re a pretty shitty guest,’ Steve says, but he’s smiling over at Billy, flushed with the lingering heat of the day.

Their faces are so close like this, Billy could… He could… Billy pulls Steve into a headlock and scrubs his knuckles through Steve’s hair.

‘Get off.’ Steve wriggles in Billy’s hold, hands curled over Billy’s forearm, pulling before he gives up and slides a hand between them, digging his fingers into Billy’s side. Not tickling, because Billy isn’t ticklish. 

‘Quit that,’ Billy says, trying not to squirm.

‘Let go of me.’

‘No.’

Steve makes a noise somewhere between a frustrated groan and a laugh, and his hand slides under Billy’s shirt. It still doesn’t tickle, because Billy _is not ticklish_ , but the feeling of Steve’s fingers skating over his bare skin is a revelation. His grip on Steve loosens, not enough that Steve gets free, but enough for Steve to turn in his hold and bite Billy’s shoulder.

‘Ow, you fucker.’

‘You started it.’ Steve is breathless as he finally slips out of Billy’s grasp. His eyes are bright, his mouth tilted in a triumphant grin.

‘And I’m gonna finish it.’

‘That so?’

‘Yeah, I’m gonna finish _you_ ,’ Billy says, jabbing a finger at Steve.

‘You have to catch me first,’ Steve says, and then he’s off and running.

Billy gives chase, heart racing. They whip through the house, knocking into furniture, their laughter echoing off the walls.

It’s exhilarating, to be running free and chasing Steve, but then Steve stops, and Billy barrels right into him. 

‘Decided to surrender, huh?’ Billy gasps out.

Steve shakes his head, making a ’T’ with his hands. ‘Time out.’

‘Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily—’

Sweat glistens on Steve’s skin, and his big, stupid eyes are practically glittering. ‘I’ve found something to do.’

‘What?’

Steve points to a set of golf clubs leaning against the wall.

‘You wanna go play golf?’ Billy scoffs.

‘We don’t have to go play golf.’ There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes that damn near takes Billy’s breath away.

‘You might just be a genius, Harrington.’

Steve beams.

‘Fore!’ Billy swings, then hits the ball with all he’s got. It flies through the air, goes sailing into the trees that back onto the yard.

‘I _told_ you not into the trees!’

Billy turns and grins at Steve, tongue between his teeth. ‘It’s just one ball.’

‘That’s the third one!’

‘I’m sure daddy can afford some new balls.’ And it’s not like they’ve all gone into the trees. Some are littering the bottom of the pool.

‘Whatever,’ Steve says, waving his can of beer. ‘You know, your swing could use some work.’

‘Fuck off. My swing is awesome.’

‘If you say so.’ The hazy light of sunset catches in Steve’s hair, makes his skin glow in the most irritating, breathtaking way.

Billy clenches his jaw and turns away to set another ball down. He grabs the club in both hands and—

‘Your grip’s all wrong.’

Billy wheels around. ‘Well, why don’t you show me if you’re such an expert.’

Steve shrugs one shoulder, but instead of picking out another club, he sets his can of beer down and moves behind Billy. His hands slide down Billy’s forearms until they curl over Billy’s grip on the club; his chest is solid and strong at Billy’s back.

Billy swallows. ‘Trying to cop a feel?’

‘You wish.’ Steve’s breath skates along Billy’s jaw. ‘Like this,’ he says, changing Billy’s grip, thumbs brushing Billy’s wrists. 

There is no way he’s doing this just to show Billy how to hold a golf club. Billy grins, but he plays along. He’s not going to complain about being this close to Steve. ‘How’s my stance?’ He wriggles his hips, pushing his ass back, so it brushes Steve’s crotch.

A sharp intake of breath. ‘Looks good,’ Steve says.

‘Mm.’ Billy gives a slow side-to-side of his hips. ‘You sure?’

‘Pretty sure,’ Steve says. His hips are flush with Billy’s now. ‘Try again.’ He steps back, but his hands move to Billy’s hips. ‘Wait,’ he says, pulling Billy’s hips back, his touch lingering even as he draws away. ‘Now try.’

For a moment, Billy forgets what it is he’s meant to be trying. But the golf club is still gripped tight in his hands, so he shakes himself and swings again. The ball sails right into the trees.

Behind him, Steve makes an annoyed noise. ‘Jerk.’

‘That any better?’ Billy turns around and throws the club at Steve, who deftly catches it. ‘Or you wanna show me how it’s done, pretty boy?’

Steve’s eyes narrow. He waves a hand at Billy and says, ‘Move aside.’

Billy pops open another can of beer, watching as Steve bends and sets the ball down, his shorts pulling tight. ‘That looks like a pretty good stance to me.’

Steve rolls his eyes, but there is colour in his cheeks and he smiles up at Billy. He straightens himself, grips the club, and swings. The ball sails through the air and Steve turns a smug look on Billy. ‘ _That’s_ how it’s—’ He winces at the distant sound of breaking glass. ‘Shit.’

‘Well, looks like you won this round,’ Billy says.

‘What?’

Billy claps a hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezes. ‘You got a hole in one.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘Best two out of three?’

‘ _Billy_ —’

A light comes on in the next house and a voice yells out, something indistinct, but definitely pissed off.

‘Oh, shit. That’s Mr Callaghan.’ Steve sucks his lip between his teeth, glancing toward the other house, edging toward Billy. ‘He’s hated me ever since he caught me with his niece.’

‘What were you doing with her?’

‘We were only making out. I mean, my hand was…’ 

If there’s a bite to Billy’s voice when he says, ‘Your hand was where?’ it’s _not_ because he’s jealous.

‘Never mind.’

‘No wonder he hates you if your hand was _there_.’

‘Let’s go back inside,’ Steve says, ignoring Billy. His hands are on Billy’s chest, shoving him in the direction of the house.

A door slamming, more yelling.

Billy stands his ground, even as his body screams to yield under Steve’s touch. ‘Like he can prove it’s you.’

‘My dad’s balls are monogrammed.’

Billy snickers.

‘His _golf_ balls.’ Steve’s nose is screwed up. ‘Look, I’m gonna be in enough trouble with my dad,’ he says, but he’s still smiling and he looks more than a little amused. ‘I don’t need it from my cranky neighbour, too.’

‘ _I’m_ not afraid of your neighbour,’ Billy says, ‘I’m not a wuss like—’ He stops, frowning. 

Somehow, Steve has managed to corral him inside without Billy even noticing. He should feel indignant that Steve had manhandled him like Billy’s some kind of a… A… Billy doesn’t know. But Steve had _manhandled him_ , and he’s still got his hands on Billy as he closes the sliding door and shuts off the lights in the den. Fuck, Steve has nice hands. They’re warm on Billy’s skin and they’re strong and—

Billy pushes Steve’s hands away. At least, he means to but somehow he ends up holding Steve’s hand, instead. Tangling their fingers together. ‘You’re such a wuss, Harrington.’

‘You said that,’ Steve says, peering around the vertical blinds, into the backyard. He jerks back. ‘Shit, I think he’s coming.’

‘Big deal,’ Billy says, but when he looks around Steve and sees a figure coming into the yard, he tugs on Steve’s hand and pulls him back through the house.

They’re laughing again as they run, even as Callaghan bangs on the back door, yelling out something that sounds like he’s holding the golf clubs hostage until someone does something about his broken window. Dickhead.

It goes quiet after that, but they keep running until Steve’s feet get underneath Billy’s as they bound up the stairs, and they collapse in a heap of flailing limbs and incredibly manly giggles.

Billy can’t find it in himself to throw even a half-hearted insult at Steve, not when they’re tangled like this, and Steve is so fucking pretty Billy’s gut aches with it.

Thoughts of broken windows and pissed off neighbours fly from Billy’s mind, replaced by the bow of Steve’s lips and how pink they are. It’s Steve filling his mind, his senses.

And then Steve leans over and kisses Billy and Billy’s mind goes blank.

For all their heated touches and lustful glances, the kiss is soft and _sweet_. Billy doesn’t do sweet but, fuck, he can make an exception. He’s got one hand on Steve’s neck, fingers splayed over his jaw, and Steve’s hands are tight on Billy’s waist.

Steve pulls Billy to him, deepening the kiss, and Billy could do this forever. But when Billy goes to brace himself on a hand so he can move closer still, it’s not the stair his hand finds but the gap between one and the next, and he ends up flat on his face.

Steve laughs, shoving Billy until he’s sitting again.

’Shut up,’ Billy says, and moves in for another kiss.

Only Steve presses a hand to Billy’s chest, pushing him away. A flurry of panic rises up behind Billy’s ribs, confusing beneath the lust and arousal simmering in his veins. But it melts away when Steve says, ‘I’ll race you to my room,’ eyes heated. He leans in close, the tease of a kiss, then he’s standing and bounding up the stairs.

It takes Billy’s brain a moment to catch up and by the time he grabs for Steve’s ankle he’s already out of reach. ‘Fucker!’ He scrambles up and races after Steve, catching him by his bedroom door. ‘You cheated,’ he says, into Steve’s ear, arms tight around Steve’s waist. He nips Steve’s earlobe.

‘Harringtons don’t cheat,’ Steve says, squirming and reaching for the doorknob, ‘we only win.’

‘Yeah, by _cheating_.’ Billy reaches around Steve and opens the door, pushing Steve through.

Steve wheels around, grinning wide, pumping his fist in the air. ‘I won!’

The door closes behind Billy with a soft click. He watches Steve from where he’s leaning against the door, how the moonlight spilling through the window catches on all the angles of his body. How Steve is looking at Billy in a way that makes Billy’s stomach swoop. Billy moves forward and grabs Steve, reeling him in. 

‘You sure you won?’ he asks as he crowds Steve against the bed, pushing him down and straddling him.

Their noses brush as Steve cranes his neck. ‘Pretty sure,’ he says. His eyes flutter when Billy licks his top lip once, then twice.

‘Well, you’re still gonna pay for cheating.’

‘Yeah?’ Steve is running his hands up and down Billy’s thighs, his touch maddening. ‘You gonna bite me again?’

Billy threads his fingers through Steve’s hair, tilting his head back. ‘Only if you ask nice.’

‘Please,’ Steve says, eyes sparkling.

Billy grins; he catches the skin at the juncture of Steve’s neck in his teeth and sucks. Laves his tongue over the reddened skin, then blows gently.

A shudder rolls through Steve, but he laughs and in one swift—if not entirely smooth—movement he’s got Billy on his back.

The bedsprings creak as Billy lands, a soft ‘oof’ escaping his lips. He barely has time to appreciate the sensation of Steve settling between his legs when Steve pins his hands either side of his head.

‘Am I still a cheater?’ Steve’s breath is hot on Billy’s cheek as he leans in.

‘Yes.’

Steve rolls his eyes and then he kisses Billy again. Hot and hard. He trails kisses along Billy’s jaw, his neck, to the hollow of his throat.

Electricity zings through Billy, little shocks skittering all over his skin in the wake of Steve’s mouth. Like licking a battery. Only better and they’re _everywhere_.

Billy hooks an ankle around Steve, drawing him in; Steve is hard against Billy, rolling his hips down, still kissing Billy wherever he can.

The kisses go lower and lower, over his chest, down his stomach. Steve pauses by the band of Billy’s shorts and looks up, raising his brows with a question in his eyes.

‘You waiting for a permission slip?’ Billy asks.

Steve grins up at him, then he yanks Billy’s shorts down and takes Billy into his mouth. Hesitating, at first, then more assured as Billy’s hips cant up and a small, broken moan escapes him.

It’s sloppy and a little awkward but it’s Steve and it feels incredible. Billy’s been so wound up all day—for months, really—that it’s not long before his orgasm rolls through him and he spills into Steve’s mouth. It leaves him quaking, those sparks lighting up all over him again.

Steve pulls off and wipes over his mouth. He moves back up, leaning over Billy, lips and eyes shining. 

Jesus Christ. He’s so fucking _pretty_.

Billy fists one hand in Steve’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss, and reaches the other between them, jerking Steve off in short, quick strokes. ‘How’s my grip now?’

‘Could be better… Oh—’ Steve’s mouth falls open as Billy twists his wrist, pressing his thumb just so.

‘What was that?’

‘Fuck,’ Steve says and spills over Billy’s hand, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Billy’s collarbone. He groans and rolls off of Billy, lying beside him.

‘I guess you win that round,’ Billy says, breathless and boneless in equal measure.

Steve makes a happy contented noise. ‘Told you Harringtons only win.’

‘Maybe we should put that to the test.’ Billy licks his lips and looks over at Steve. His heart beats hard. ‘What do you say, best two out of three?’

Steve raises his brows, blinking over at Billy. A sly grin slowly tilts his lips and he says, ‘Yeah, OK. But I’m gonna win.’

‘Then I’ll guess we’ll have to go best three out of five,’ Billy says, leaning up and over Steve.

Steve pulls Billy down on top of him and says, ‘I guess we will.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)
> 
> You can find [a moodboard for the fic on Tumblr](https://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/621968085099970560/teenage-kicks-t-28k-for) if that’s your jam! 
> 
> I have to admit this ended up a lot, uh, hornier than I meant it to but the muse will have its way, right? Haha XD


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